Thus having buried my second wife I was alone again. My poor unfortunate daughter was now left an orphan.
As she had requested we buried Salima alongside of Babbat"s grave. Every morning we all went to the cemetery to see the burial places of my wives. We Uzbek people have the tradition to attend the graves of the departed ones for forty days, before sunrise. That morning at the break of day, following the tradition of ancestors, we went to the cemetery again. The empty street was quiet. We hurried rustling with our caftans. Our footsteps echoed over the whitewashed fences.
A lonely homeless dog was roaming at the entrance outside the cemetery. Right behind the fence the bristles of grass waved like the hair of a warrior fallen in action.
We walked in a rank along the narrow path, and coming up to my wives" graves we went down on our knees. I recited a sura from the Koran praying to God to set Salima"s soul at rest. Then we sat in silence weeping and sobbing. Adjusting the fresh ground on Salima"s grave and touching softly Babbat"s headstone set up on her tomb I uttered:
- Please forgive me, my dear wives. It was through my fault that you departed prematurely. You were nice and beautiful, and I loved you madly. Although I was an experienced fool you honestly catered to my every need like bondmaids. I did not appreciate your kindness and generosity duly. Only now I begin to realize that you were angels without wings. You always pardoned me. I ask you both for the last time, please forgive me... Believe me, I always tried to be a good man, but somehow nothing came of it. In fact, I am not the way I look. I am not a bad man, after all. But.. I should have said all this before. No use to say it now. Yet I ask you to pardon me. Thank you for everything.
My voice trembled and became hoarse. Involuntary, tears rolled down my cheeks dropping on Salima"s grave. Arabboy put his hands on my shoulder and said softly:
- Let"s go, father.
I got up, and we walked back in a rank along the narrow path.
When getting out of the cemetery and closing the gate I saw a man that stood like a ghost beneath the huge elm tree in the spectral twilight. Suddenly he budged towards us. When he came closer I recognized him It was Genghiskhan. Dragging my lame leg I walked up to him.
- Genghiskhan, dear, where have you been all this time? Your mom has left us! She was waiting for you! Poor creature, she loved you so! Sonny...
Opening my arms, I wanted to hug my adopted son. Genghiskhan stopped and said contempuously:
- Don"t approach me, you lame demon! You killed my mom and ruined our family. You cannot get away without being punished. I"ll avenge my mother!
He took out a gun, loaded it quickly and pulled the trigger. There was a shot. I felt an acute pain in my stomach and put my hands on the wound. There was blood leaking through my fingers. I bent down moaning. My sons rushed to attack Genghiskhan, but the latter managed to fire another shot. Sharabboy fell down groaning. Arabboy snatched the gun from Genghiskhan and punched him in his face. Genghiskhan fell down. Arabboy started beating and kicking him. I felt giddy and fainted. I came round in hospital. The first things I saw were lots of pipes and a medicine dropper. By my side I saw doctors in white garments and masks which made them look like ninja warriors at the foot of Khagbinz mount along the moonlit paths in bamboo bushes. One of them said turning to me:
You mustn"t move. You haven"t come round yet. Don"t worry, your younger son is also alive. Your elder son and his sister come to hospital every day asking to let them see you. If you behave well, we will allow them to visit you the day after tomorrow. So be patient.
I nodded flapping with my eye-lashes. I had my belly bandaged. I looked at the ceiling which was gradually turning into the sky. The clouds flowing by in the square sky looked like uvada, which we had processed at Uvada Factory and sold to people. I saw Kalankhan Adalatov who sat on one of the clouds chewing something and looking like an orangutan nibbling sunflower seeds in the Zoo..
- Assalyam Aleikum, Kalankhan Adalatovich - I shouted - what are you doing there? Still lying in bed? As for me, I"m waiting for Ramazanov. He"s also here. He works as a driver. He drives a time machine. We drive from one space to another every day. Come on, jump in here. We"ll take a ride in our time machine. Oh, there he is...
I looked and saw a flying object with Ramazanov sitting in the cabin. He opened the movable window and shouted to me:
- Al Kizim, I beg your pardon, but it just happed! Come on! Jump in! I will give you a ride. We are on the way to Eternity. Have you ever been to Eternity? No? Well, then you have missed a lot! Why are you lying there like that? Comу on, let"s fly off!
- No-o-o, I have flown once with you. I have many things to do, and I have no time now!.
- No time? - KalankhanAdalatov cried getting on the vehicle- and where did you get the 15 years given to you by Sharbash Wimbledon? Well, well, Al Kizim, you are also giving out a hundred and fifty volts! You cannot save time! Well, all right!
He took a plastic bag and hurling it to me cried:
- There you are! Good time! Free of charge!
I caught the bag and thanked him. Ramazanov closed the movable door, started the engine and drove off towards Eternity. The square sky turned blank.
May 30th, 2008, 10-08 p.m.,
Toronto, Canada.
Holdor Volcano
"The Moon Outside My Window"
Volcano (Abdusalomov Holdorboy Usmanovich) was born in Maslakhat village, Altinkulsk District, Andizhan Region, the Republic of Uzbekistan in 1959. In 1975 he finished school. In 1976-1978 he worked as an artist and designer in different institutions. For two years, from 1978 to 1980, he served in the army. Since 1975 he has been writing poetry and prose under the pen-name of Volcano in two languages, Uzbek and Russian. In 1996 he graduated from Tashkent State University. Since 1999 he has been a member the Union of Writers of Uzbekistan. He is the author of three collections of poems, 5 books of stories and 2 novels. He is married and has 5 children. At present Volcano lives in Canada.
Vladimir Mayakovsky said in his autobiography that he was a poet, and that was what made him an interesting man. Holdor Volcano is a poet and a writer, and that is what makes him an interesting personality. We will leave it to historians to tell the world who, in fact, Volcano is, what his political views are, what outstanding people he rubs shoulders with, what his honors and awards are and so on. We have his books at hand and we have the lucky chance to read them, that"s all.
We will open his novel "The Moon Outside My Window" , start reading it and will be unable to tear off our eyes from the book. We"ll read it on and on nonstop wondering what will happen next for so exciting is the story, so interesting the episode that we, subconsciously, will get involved in it, be part of it and start talking with the characters of the book, joining them in the laugh, shedding tears with them, advising them what to do, judging them when they do something wrong and rejoicing when they do something right.
Al Kizim, the main character of the book, is of special interest to us because, as the main character of the novel he finds himself in all the situations and circumstances described in it: life and death, war and peace, love and marriage, divorce and reconciliation, crime and punishment, good luck and bad fortune and what not.
The book is written in the first person, and we might expect Al Kizim to be a real hero, a positive character against the background of the other characters with their flaws and faults, inadequate behavior and such. Ironically, he happens to be one of them, a man with strong points and week points, acting right and not quite right, in fact, he is just a man of common sense taken by the author from real life.
The scene is laid in Uzbekistan, a country in Central Asia, with its customs, traditions, beliefs, the way of life and so on, and one may expect the description of some sophisticated people beyond European and American understanding. As we read the book our precautions vanish into thin air from the very first pages. We see an amazing unity of human"s nature regardless of where one lives: in the East, West, South or North. We are all humans and must treat one another as such. It"s a dominant and recurring theme of Holdor Volcano"s novel which can be plainly seen from the behavior and mutual relationship of his novel"s personages: Uzbeks, Russians, Georgians, Armenians and others. There is, of course, some national touch and coloration of Usbek people"s way of life but it should not be exaggerated which, incidentally, none of the characters of the novel do. It doesn"t even occur to them to make it a problem.
While we read the book we cannot but fall in love with its female characters: Babat and Salima. Love for the husband, care for the children and the family, weakness and strength of the heart, chastity and purity, dignity and honesty, all this combined with open heart and physical charm makes them amazingly attractive women for the reader who will excitedly read every line of the chapters devoted to them. It"s not for nothing that Al Kizim loves both of them dearly and even keeps his promise when he tells Salima that he will follow her if she passes away.
As we mentioned before, the author resorts to imaginative creation of episodes and scenes putting his characters in all possible and impossible situations, real and unreal, and he does it to show his characters" true nature for one can only be understood in full when others see his or her behavior in non-standard and non-typical circumstances. We will see Al Kizim flying in a balloon, fishing, gambling, doing business, fighting, falling in love, leaving the family and coming back, burying his friends, and what not. The same goes for other characters such as Adalatov, Ramazanov and others who find themselves in most extraordinary situations and show their true nature in action, which, as the saying goes, speak louder than words.
Al Kizim is a believer, a Muslim. He says his prayers regularly and he fears Allah. But he is far from being a man of chasity, nor is he an exceedingly righteous man. He will commit a sin, regret it, say his prayer and try not to do wrong again. The most important thing about him is that he is tolerant of other people"s beliefs. When Kalankhan Adalatov, feeling that he is about to breathe his last, asks Al Kizim to bury him in the Christian Cemetery Al Kizim promises that he will do it and keeps his promise. Even the Imam of the local Mosque Zainutdin Ibn Gainutdin attends Adalatov"s funeral saying all people on earth are the children of Adam Allaikhissalam.
In another episode Ramazanov, a Muslim and Adalatov, a Christian, when taken aback by some danger threatening their lives take turns in praying: "Ramazanov started praying. When he finished his prayer Kalankhan Adalatov, being an Orthodox Christian, crossed himself and started singing a psalm from the Bible".
Religious tolerance is inherent to other characters of the novel as well. The author"s latent ideа is that belief is a personal thing, and one recognizes another man"s or woman"s right to believe in whatever he or she wants. And it"s not the author"s dream or fantasy. It"s reality observed and very well depicted by the writer in his novel.
Holdor Volcano narrates his story full of adventurous scenes and exciting episodes without making judgments and taking sides. He gives true pictures of life leaving it to the reader to form his or her own opinion of the events and characters described in this exciting book.